Swing of the Knife
by DaisyCrown
Summary: The Order is so overbearing these days. The exorcists are under so much pressure, what with being shipped off to another mission right after they return from one. It's even caused a few of them to snap, and in some cases, lash out.


"Another murder happened last night," a villager said to another in a hushed whisper.

"That's third one this week. Aren't the police going to do anything about it?"

In fact, these murders had been happening on a more frequent basis. It started with a young woman, Smith was her name, and everyone had thought it was a fluke. Then, a florist had been added to the reaper's list. A florist, then two Finders. Ah yes, the Order's cannon fodder had been found mangled in the grassy square a week ago. By the time they had been found, their corpses had been overtaken by maggots and flies for hours. Not a pretty sight, especially for the townspeople to see in broad daylight.

However, the exorcist seemed almost unphased by the sight. He let out a sigh and a simple, "If they come back as akuma, I'm gonna end up hatin' this killer even more than I do now. I mean, I can't even go into town without hearin' about who was stabbed." Nobody heard him, but that didn't matter. He didn't want to be hounded with questions today.

That being said, Daisya went to his favorite bakery. The Order was on high alert after the Finder incident, and he wanted to get out of there. There was only so much of the talk you could take. Then again, it wasn't like he could escape it. As usual, while waiting in line, he decided to talk to the other patrons of the shop. "So, ya hear about the murder last night? Pretty brutal. I feel bad for the guy they had to scrape off the pavement."

What a great conversation to have. Someone was just murdered, and waiting in line for breakfast was obviously the best time to bring that up. Not like there was much else to talk about, anyway. A gasp was heard in the cozy shop. Of course someone had taken offense to it. According to them, that was their friend. How inconsiderate! Better to leave now before he started a fight. Hopefully this didn't happen again. At least he had a bagel.

He stepped back outside under the sunny sky. A few clouds were drifting past, almost as if a storm were coming. A perfect description of what was happening in town. People were worried, and it could only get worse from here. You could tell by the way people walked hurriedly down the streets. The click of heels on the narrow cobblestone streets seemed rushed. They should at least try to relax; it wasn't like they were _obviously _the next victim of the killer's knife.

He finally made it back to the Order, only to realize that that murder was all they were talking about as well. According to the rumors, they were planning on making exorcists come and go in groups. Even that was better than being cooped up in the stone tower for most of the day. Then again, Daisya only followed the orders he cared about. It would be great to see what the Order would do if they lost one of their "precious" exorcists.

…..

Precious exorcist indeed. The nineteen-year-old went out on another walk. The best way to avoid the talk was to pay no mind to those around him. Walk around the town again, listen to the clicking cobblestones, tune out the conversations. Much to his relief, the crowd thinned out. What was usually a busy street bustling with people had become like a slow side street. Some blue-collar worker was strolling home from the factory in front of him, taking his sweet time. Well, whatever time he had left.

Once nobody was in sight, Daisya pulled out the knife. It was a cruel blade, made of dark-tempered metal and a couple of inlaid gems. How he obtained it was a mystery, but that was one for another time. Now, it was time to put said blade to use. It bit into flesh, and the man died almost instantly.

A gash across his throat traced the place where the knife had been. What an ugly sight. Chop off the head, and it would be gone. However, that would leave the sight out of balance. All those years dealing with Tiedoll had taught him that. A head and a corpse would be ugly—too French. Nobody needed a repeat of Marie Antoinette.

It would look _so_ much better if the limbs were separated and scattered as well. A leg in the square, an arm by the constable's; it would be perfect. All that was left was to put that bloody plan in action.

With the arms, legs, and head hacked off, it would be much easier to make a show of this murder. It was what the people wanted, wasn't it? If they were talking about these killings so often, they were sure to be bored. After all, what did a joker do other than provide entertainment?

The scene was almost complete, but it seemed to be missing _something_. A final taunt to the cops. It wasn't like a uniform automatically made you invincible. Funny how people thought that. Anyway, with that thought in mind, he carved the phrase, "_Catch me if you can!_" into the man's back. Just the way to poke fun at the cops' incompetence. Not like they could tell he was the one who wrote it anyway, considering the writing was so different from his own.

This plan was just too perfect. The town was in chaos, and nobody knew he was the one behind it all. Daisya laughed and laughed until he could barely stand on his own feet. A storm was coming all right, and the Order was going to get the worst damage. What could they do against the big, bad killer?


End file.
